Oh snap

And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name. "So, you're a politician…" "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!" "Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules" Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears… And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be right? "Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But… Where's all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit mis-represented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside…" Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then" says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell" says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again. The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???" "Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted…"

What are you retardant?

1st woman: Hi! My name is Wanda. 2nd woman: Hi! I'm Lynne. How'd you die? 1st woman: I Froze to Death. 2nd woman: How Horrible! 1st woman: It wasn't so bad. After I quit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm & sleepy, and finally died a peaceful death. What about you? 2nd woman: I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV. 1st woman: So, what happened? 2nd woman: I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds. I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died. 1st woman: Too bad you didn't look in the freezer… we'd both still be alive.

With 2-in-1 shampoo.

A coronaissance, if you will.

#4e5054, #272727, #282828, #292929, #2b2b2b, #2c2c2c, #2e2e2e, #313131, #323232, #343434, #353535, #373737, #393939, #3a3a3a, #3c3c3c, #3f3f3f, #404040, #424242, #444444, #454545, #474747, #484848, #4a4a4a, #4b4b4b, #4d4d4d, #4e4e4e, #505050, #515151, #535353, #565656, #575757, #585858, #595959, #5b5b5b, #5c5c5c, #5e5e5e, #616161, #626262, #646464, #656565, #676767, #6a6a6a, #6b6b6b, #6c6c6c, #6d6d6d, #6f6f6f, #727272, #737373, #757575, #767676, #777777, #7b7b7b, #7c7c7c, #7d7d7d, #7e7e7e, #808080, #818181, #838383, #868686, #878787, #888888, #898989, #8b8b8b, #8c8c8c, #8e8e8e, #919191, #929292, #949494, #959595, #979797, #9a9a9a, #9b9b9b, #9c9c9c, #9d9d9d, #9f9f9f, #a0a0a0, #a2a2a2, #a5a5a5, #a6a6a6, #a8a8a8, #a9a9a9, #ababab, #aeaeae, #afafaf, #b0b0b0.

A non-prophet one

My wonderful girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year, and so we decided to get married. There was only one little thing bothering me—it was her beautiful younger sister. My prospective sister-in-law was twenty-two, wore very tight miniskirts, and generally was bra-less. She would regularly bend down when she was near me, and I always got more than a nice view. It had to be deliberate. Because she never did it when she was near anyone else. One day her “little” sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived, and she whispered to me that she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn’t overcome. She told me that she wanted me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister. Well, I was in total shock, and couldn’t say a word. She said, “I’m going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want one last wild fling, just come up and get me.” I was stunned and frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs. I stood there for a moment, then turned and made a beeline straight for the door I opened the door, and sprinted towards my vehicle. Lo and behold, my entire future family was standing outside, all clapping! With tears in his eyes, my father-in-law hugged me and said, “We are very happy that you have passed our little test. We couldn’t ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family.” Moral of the story? Always keep the condoms in the car

Boeing-Boeing-Boeing

The CEO of Budweiser orders a Bud Light. The CEO of Miller orders a Miller Light. The CEO of Coors orders a Coors Light. The CEO of Guinness orders a Coke. The first three ask the CEO of Guinness why he didn't order a Guinness, to which he replied: "I figured if you 3 weren't ordering beer it would be rude for me to."

At first I just wasn’t putting in enough shifts, then I couldn’t keep the space clean and finally I lost control

Professor told dirty jokes in class and the women wanted to protest it. So they decided that in the next time that the professor will start with these kinds of jokes,they all will leave the class as a protest. Somehow the professor heard about the protest. In the next lecture,in the beginning of the lecture he said : "in Sweden a prostitute makes $2000 per night." All the women stood up and started to leave the class. So he shouted after them : "Where are you going? The plane to Sweden doesn't take off until the afternoon. "

The first two men open a bottle of vodka, while the third is tired and goes straight to bed. He is unable to sleep however, as his increasingly drunk friends tell political jokes loudly. After a while, the tired man gets frustrated and walks downstairs for a smoke. He stops in the lounge and asks the receptionist to bring tea to their room in five minutes. The man walks back into the room, joins the table, leans towards a power outlet and speaks into it: "Comrade major, we want some tea to room 62 please." His friends laugh on the joke, until there is a knock on the door. The receptionist brings a tea pot. His friends fall silent and pale, horrified of what they just witnessed. The party is dead, and the man goes to sleep. After a good night's rest, the man wakes up, and notices his friends are gone. Surprised, he walks downstairs and asks the receptionist where they went. The nervous receptionist whispers that KGB came and took them before dawn. The man is horrified. He wonders why he was spared. The receptionist responds: "Well, comrade major did quite like your tea gag."

So I packed my bags and right

Because 31 OCT = 25 DEC.

…apparently COVID-19 was a little too old for him.

So, he opens the box and picks up the letter. He glances at it briefly to make sure it is stamped, and then puts it in his bag with his other letters. When he gets back to his office, the letter goes in a big bin with all of the other out-going mail. He thinks nothing of it, and finishes his day. A few days later, he delivers the exact same letter to the same house that he picked it up from. He glances at the mailing address and observes that it is indeed the same as the return address. Anyone can make a mistake, so the mailman puts the letter in the mailbox so that the customer can readdress it for its proper recipient. He thinks nothing of it and finishes his day. The next day, the mailman sees the same mailbox with the flag up. He opens the box and again sees the same letter, nothing changed, but with a new stamp on it. The mailman is perplexed, and thinking to save the customer both time and money, decides to ring the doorbell and inquire about the letter. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-dong, Ding-dong. The door opens and standing there is a stout Buddhist monk, dressed in traditional garb. “Pardon me, sir,” the mailman says, “but you seem to be trying to mail this letter again, and without any changes to the address, it’s only going to end up back at your home in a few days.” “Ah, my letter. Thank you so much for mailing it the other day, it was greatly appreciated. Please do so again” replies the Buddhist monk. “But sir,” says mailman, “you will only waste a stamp, and this letter will be re-delivered to your home a few days from now.” “But that is my intention, dear man,” replies the Buddhist monk. “You see, reposting is the best way to get karma.”

But I am surprised that there are 7884 grains of rice in one pack, and 7892 in another.

Same middle name.

The lieutenant goes first and says, "I feel that making love is 80% fun and 20% work." Then captain responded by saying, "No, I think that making love is more work than that. I would say that it is 60% fun and 40% work." Finally, the major says, "No, making love is definitely way more work than that. I would say that it is 20% fun and 80% work." They are all contemplating these revelations when a private walks by. The officers call the private over to ask his opinion. The major says, "Excuse me, private, we are having a discussion and would like your input. The lieutenant says that making love is 80% fun and 20% work. The captain says that making love is 60% fun and 40% work. I say that making love is 20% fun and 80% work. Private, what is your opinion?" The private says, "Well sir, you are all wrong. Making love must be 100% fun, because if there was any work involved, you would have me do it.